


What Comes Never Goes

by ellale



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, Nyotalia, in a way? I mean its more complex than that, its like working up to a healthy one, relationship building, there thats the tag, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8976097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellale/pseuds/ellale
Summary: With Christmas and New Years sneaking around the corners, Poland decides to clean her storage room. Upon the discovery of several old artifacts, she is confronted with the subconscious guilt and unease towards her relation with Lithuania.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work on this site. It has been something I held on my mind for a while, so I finally made an AO3 account to post it! Flashbacks will be indicated with three pluses (+++) at the start and three equal signs(===) at the end instead of italics to make reading the text easier. Sources will appear as links in quotes or sentences. In addition, I'll be mainly using human names. Some characters have multiple names, having their names being changed over time to fit in with requirements and trends(especially if said nations converted to Christianity at some point). Here's a list:  
> Magdalena(common;Lena for short)/Malina(old) - Poland  
> Vitalija(common)/Daina(private) - Lithuania  
> Dániel - Hungary  
> Kadri - Estonia  
> Līga - Latvia  
> Anastasia(Asya for short) - Russia  
> Julia(Julchen for short) - Prussia  
> Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy!

In a world of responsibilities, keeping up with time proves itself to be quite a challenge. Many times, people make promises that fly right under their own noses. Deadlines and due dates trample on poor souls piled with stress. Even in simple tasks, one can easily get caught up and procrastinate. Such a phenomenon had been pestering Magdalena for some time.

On a crisp day in September, she had been chatting to her close and trusted friend Dániel about finally mucking out the crowded closet she used for storage. Magdalena brushed it off. "I'll clean it out in October," she had said dismissively, yet October came and went and her closet was still untouched. This putting off persisted through November. With December making its way and the New Year around the corner, Magdalena felt immense pressure. Finally, on a free Saturday, she concluded that it was time to get down and dirty.

After gearing up with a spray bottle, feather duster, a pair of rubber gloves, and a trash can, Magdalena solemnly marched down the hall to the dreaded closet. A shiver ran up her spine, and regret began to pile up within her.  _ If I can get a start on this,  _ she reassured herself,  _ and finish any little part, I’ll be good.  _ Her shoulders stiffened as her hand turned and pulled on the closet door. Magdalena put down her supplies and began the long process of browsing and sorting. Her closet was stuffed to the brim, yet she was never able to muster up the courage to rid herself of any of her beloved trinkets. Old unreadable books, ceramic frogs, and every other useless tchotchke was simply returned to its spot in the closet.

An hour of stagnation came and went before Magdalena decided to close up shop and give herself a rest. However, before she could fully close the door to her storage closet, a small scrap of paper slipped out. Magdalena shut the door fully, bending over to pick up and observe the paper. The words “Jagiello, Grand Duke of Lithuania, with his brethren, pledges [ to heed the obligation ](http://spuscizna.org/spuscizna/union-krewo.html) he took upon himself if he marries Polish Queen Jadwiga…” were barely legible, yet their impact was one beyond words.


	2. Practically Lying.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magdalena decides to turn to her friend Dániel, but he does everything but cheer her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: anger/yelling  
> I might not be updating for a week or so, since the day after tomorrow I'm headed on a family trip.

Shaking, Magdalena, slipped the paper into her pocket. She took a deep breath in attempt to regain her composure. A few seconds of contemplation led her to do what she had intended to after cleaning: call Dániel.  
“Hey Lena,” replied a calm voice through a barrier of background noises, “Did you clean the storage room?”  
Rejuvenated by the voice of her closest friend, Magdalena was able to resume with a normal mood. “Some of it,” she casually jested, “You won’t believe what I found in there!”  
“What?” Dániel dramatically gasped, mocking Magdalena’s amused tone.  
The small sheet of paper entered Magdalena’s mind, sitting in the corner and waiting to be let out. She paused for a moment, trying to come up with another way to continue the conversation. “A florin! An actual florin,” she laughed, regret and falsehood vaguely apparent in her shaky voice.  
A moment of anticipation ensued as she waited for Dániel to pick up on her mood. After a brief pause, Dániel finally said, “You know what that reminds me of?”   
“What?” Magdalena playfully pursued.  
“When Jadwiga got married,” Dániel recounted slowly, as if he were trying to remember details, “And[ Jogaila had to hand over a bunch of florins to Austria’s duke](https://mizuyashi.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/plenary-discussion-part-1-union-of-krewo-union-of-lublin-partitions.pdf).”  
A sob was caught in Magdalena’s throat. She felt a few tears begin to tickle her eye. “Oh yeah,” she shakily bantered, raising her pitch in attempt to cover up her crying, “Poor Lithuania, she didn’t like the terms of the treaty at all.”  
Dániel finally caught on, and Magdalena sensed concern in his tone as he spoke to her. “Lena,are you okay?”   
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Magdalena tensely blurted, sounding stricter than she had intended as she pronounced the last few words.  
Dániel let out a sigh. The sigh that Magdalena knew a thousand years ago, a sigh that meant business. “Look, Magdalena, I’ve known you forever. I trust you more than I trust anyone else on this planet. We’ve both had run-ins with other nations, unions and periods we’d like to forget. I know what you’re going through. I’ve gone through it too. I know you’re not okay. Tell me what you’re hiding, I promise I can help you, I promise I’ll be there.”  
Magdalena felt a sob build up in her throat. “If you know that I’m not okay, then why bother asking? I’m fine, alright? I’m not keeping secrets! I’m not hiding anything that you need to know! Your pain is not the same as my pain, so stop trying to make it seem like we’re the same! It’s different with me! Stop trying to make me feel better, to convince me I’m good because I know I’ll never be!”   
“You’re so selfish,” Dániel yelled back, finally losing his temper, “Thinking that no one cares about you and that you don’t matter! Do you think it’s easy for me? I’m not trying to say that we went through the same things! I’m saying that I can try to understand! You have to stop--”  
“I’m not the only selfish one here, Dániel!” Magdalena roared, “So go stuff yourself with hay if you want to think about blue almonds!” She slammed the phone back in its handset, her whole body now shuddering as she fell over on the couch. Though she has many times yelled at and made up with Dániel, guilt still welled up in her stomach. It hurt to talk like this to one of the few people who had stuck by her side for so long.   
A wave of exhaustion and lethargy swept over Magdalena. She checked the clock out of habit, and for reassurance. It was about 7:30 pm. Despite not having dinner, she felt no pang of hunger as she let slumber deliver her from the aftermath of her argument with Hungary.


	3. Cold Night Soft Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a cold night in January 1386, Poland and Lithuania have their first heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I don'5 like explicitly saying things, but this is not a flashback/dream. In this story, most of the historical snippets are memories related to the articles Poland finds or the plot itself.  
> Second, the chapter might not be one hundred percent accurate.  
> This is my main source: http://gallowglass.org/jadwiga/SCA/slavic/jadwiga.wawel.html  
> Feel free to correct any historical inacurracies!  
> Anyways thats about it! Enjoy the chapter!

Magdalena’s first impressions of Lithuania weren’t the best. Though they had been unified for a brief period prior to Jogaila’s proposal, the Galicia-Volhynia wars had lasted too long for any kind feelings to pass between the two. The difference in beliefs-- Lithuania being a pagan nation and Poland being a Christian one-- did nothing to aid the situation. When she received word from Elizabeth via Jadwiga that Lithuania’s grand duke, Jogaila, had proposed marriage, she became bitter. But she didn’t have the luxury of choice, and decided to milk what she could out of the deal. After all, a union with Lithuania might provide political benefits that marriage to Wilhelm of Austria wouldn’t.  
When Lithuania arrived at the palace, she had looked much different than Magdalena had remembered. For starters, she was more mature and seemed to have grown. Yet there was something striking about her appearance. Her skin was a sickly pale, and bags hung under her eyes, in a way that stressed Magdalena out. Was it worry or selfishness that drove her to feel this way? Either way, she kept her composure as greetings and negotiations were being made. An idea popped into her mind: she should check up on Lithuania. Magdalena brushed the idea off as though it were a speck of dust on her dress.  
The cold, January snow dotted the city of Krakow. From the entrance to the castle, Magdalena could see the Tatra mountains in the South. Though they were rather far, their vivid outline on the horizon set a peaceful mood during troubling times. Her wool scarf was itchy around her neck, but she’d rather be uncomfortable than face the cold head-on. The Vistula river shimmered slightly to the East as the sun set. Magdalena knew she would be scolded for being out this late, and not preparing for bed, but she couldn’t help her inability to sleep at a time like this. A ghostly figure mulled around the periphery of her consciousness.  
Magdalena whipped her head around, only to see Lithuania also staring at the view. “Hey,” she called out, trying to rid herself of any aggression in her tone, “Are you okay?”  
Lithuania let out a loud cough that echoed in the large hall by the entrance. “Yeah,” she rasped, though she was clearly not okay, “I’m alright.”  
“You don’t look like it,” Magdalena commented, walking towards Lithuania, offering her hands for support. Lithuania glanced at her big mittens, letting out another cough, then looking back up in a perplexed manner. “Are you going to die soon?”  
Lithuania shrugged in an overly casual way for such a serious question. “I’m here in Kraków, but back home, it’s not looking pretty. The Teutonic Knights… civil war… yeah.”  
Magdalena nodded in solidarity, lowering her hands and avoiding eye  
contact. “Didn’t Jogaila leave someone in charge?”  
“Yeah,” Lithuania said, shrugging in her defeated way, “But he’s not well-liked. His name is Skirgaila.”  
“And what’s yours?” Magdalena blurted, staring with intrigue right at Lithuania’s pale face. The moon began to make an entrance, and the sun tucked itself away under the Vistula river. Lithuania gave her a look, her defined cheekbones and prominent nose shining in the moonlight. “What’s your name?”  
Lithuania raised a brow, looking at Magdalena like she had suggested that they jump into the Vistula river and swim against the current. “Lithuania?” She answered, trying to please Magdalena’s question.  
“No, no,” Magdalena sighed, shaking her head, “The casual one, the one that’s not Lithuania. Like, I’m Magdalena. It’s the name I was baptised with. You have one, right?”  
“You won’t like it,” Lithuania mumbled, looking at the grand staircase in the entryway.  
Magdalena lifted a hand and put it on Lithuania’s shoulder. “Why not?” she asked.  
“It’s a pagan one.” Lithuania whispered shamefully, brushing off Magdalena’s hand.  
“Oh.” Magdalena stared at the stars hanging above the city. She felt the crisp air gnawing at her face and her nose. Without a mirror, she knew that her cheeks were becoming rosy. However, a warmth boiled deep down in her stomach, keeping her warm enough to stay. After a brief interlude of awkward silence, she resumed conversation. “What are you doing down here anyways?”  
“Me?” Lithuania said, out of habit, “Oh, right.” She took a step back, her silhouette now vivid and bold in front of the night sky. “I’m supposed to share a room. My boss–Jogaila–he told me that it would be best if I shared your room, since there wasn’t another bed prepared, and we were both countries, and we’re about to be entered in union, and Jadwiga says that your bed is too big for you anyways…”  
Magdalena nodded. She did have a sizable bed, but she sort of felt that she deserved it. “Well then,” she remarked, noticing a flinch in Lithuania, “Can you tell me your name? I can tell you mine–”  
“It’s Magdalena,” Lithuania interrupted quickly, “you told me already.”  
“That’s the one I was baptised with,” Magdalena pointed out, “Malina is my real name. But now I’m Catholic, and I’ve been Magdalena for centuries. Call me Magdalena if you’re calling me anything.” She paused, wondering if she said too much. She took a breath, turning to Lithuania and saying, “your turn.”  
Lithuania gulped, taking a deep breath. “Daina,” she recited in a hushed voice. Yet her name seemed to echo through the hall. Magdalena felt a burning in her cheeks. Daina. What a gentle name for someone who seemed to strong. “It means song,” Daina proceeded, “I love to sing… I have a lot of songs.” Something about the way she spoke triggered an unspoken awe in Magdalena. She felt drawn towards Daina, attached to the strong soldier who was simple and tender and heart.  
“It’s beautiful,” she commented, observing Daina’s bolded features and noticing a softness, “your name, I mean…”  
“Why are you here?” Daina boldly interjected, with a genuine yet challenging look in her eyes.  
“It’s smoky inside,” Magdalena responded, returning the challenge with a shrug, “And I’d rather be cold than choke on all the smoke.”  
Daina nodded, as though she were thoroughly observing. “I’m going to bed,” She dismissed herself, turning around and heading away.  
Magdalena stared at the scenery, catching a final glimpse. She took a few steps back and slightly rotated her head. “Uhhh… Daina,” she said. Daina flinched at the mention of her name. This was the first time another nation had used it. “Wrong way.”  
“Right.” Daina pivoted, waiting for Magdalena to lead her up to her room, and to fall asleep.


	4. Another (Blown) Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sticks and stones can break bones, but words can ruin lives. No need for Magdalena to worry, though-- she's no stranger to loss, or ruining her own life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jakub is nyo!Czech Republic, Jela is nyo!Slovakia! Warnings: A lot of feelings and heated arguing. Also sorry this took so long! Hopefully it was worth the wait.

Magdalena’s eyes blinked open in the dark. She felt hungry, greasy, and lethargic. Her eyes swept to the clock, which read “2:24 a.m.” in a taunting voice. Through the darkness out her window she made out the outlines of her garden. In her sweaty hand, she felt a piece of paper. After grasping and releasing, feeling the parchment on her skin, she was sure she hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night after a weird dream. It was all real.  _ Oh God,  _ she thought, feeling a headache rush in,  _ that means…  _ A buzz in her pocket alerted her, and she shakily pulled her phone out and squinted at the bright screen. The chorus Doda’s “Nie Daj Się” blared from the speakers of Magdalena’s phone as a new text appeared on her screen. 

She exasperatedly unlocked her phone. A message popped up on her screen, from Dániel. Magdalena tapped on it, scrolling up once messages opened to read through the whole ordeal.

_ [sent 01:34 AM]  _ look lena, im so sorry

_ [sent 01:34 AM]  _ please pick up

_ [sent 01:34 AM]  _ please pick up soon or im calling jakub

_ [sent 01:46 AM]  _ jakub wont pick up ill have to call jela

_ [sent 01:46 AM]  _ please i just wanna know that u r ok

_ [sent 01:47 AM]  _ lena please i want to know you didnt try anything

_ [sent 01:47 AM]  _ ok fine im calling jela

_ [sent 02:05 AM]  _ jela told me to go back to sleep

_ [sent 02:05 AM]  _ lena you leave me no choice

_ [sent 02:05 AM]  _ lena please im gonna call you one more time

_ [sent 02:06 AM]  _ if you dont pick up now idk what to do

_ [sent 02:15 AM]  _ lena i beg you please…

_ [sent 02:16 AM]  _ i know last time we fought like this it didn’t end well

_ [sent 02:16 AM]  _ i know u have a temper and might not wanna pick up 

_ [sent 02:16 AM]  _ but im really worried

_ [sent 02:16 AM]  _ i know ur mad but this is for your own good

Magdalena slowly regained consciousness as she scrolled through the wall of texts Dániel had sent. She became a bit upset she hadn’t seen them earlier, but slowly became enraged as she read through. Who did Dániel think he was? Thinking that Magdalena was so pompous and arrogant? That she would be so stupid as to get herself in danger? And thinking that even if she were, that it was  _ his  _ responsibility to pull her out? That she was incapable? Her eyes and cheeks became steamy, and she felt her nose begin to run. Tears of anger were fast approaching.

She scrolled down some more.

_ [sent 02:24 AM]  _ i know ur ignoring me

_ [sent 02:24 AM]  _ look if u dont pick up im going to have to go to my last resort

_ [sent 02:24 AM]  _ thats it im calling vitalija

The mention of that name made Magdalena’s spine shiver. She felt sweat began to pour from her palms. Her eyes stung horribly, burning within their sockets. She drew a shaky breath, moving her stiff fingers to type in a response. The words, however, didn’t come. Moments later, she heard her phone ring again. This time it wasn’t Dániel.

Confused, Magdalena slammed her phone face down on the couch, jolting up and dragging herself to the kitchen. She heard the ringtone die down as the phone went to voicemail. A tired yet stern voice began to speak, causing a shiver to travel down Magdalena’s spine. 

“Lena,” Magdalena heard her name through the phone, “It’s Vitalija. I know you’re not pulling any stunts. You’re not an idiot.”

For some reason, a weight was lifted off of Magdalena’s chest. She began to breathe calmly again, and pulled a glass cup down from a wooden cabinet. 

“But you make a lot of dumb choices,” Vitilija continued in a raspy voice intensified by her poor connections, “Please, it’s 2:30 in the fucking morning, I’m tired. Just pick up, or tell Hungary you’re ok, so I can go back to sleep. I have no clue what’s going on, or how often this happens, but next time please save it for the morning.” 

Magdalena’s nose scrunched up as she poured herself a glass of water from the sink. Maybe she wasn’t showing it off as though it was her prized possession, but Vitalija saw her as a child. Just like everyone else. Magdalena’s cheeks flushed red with anger, then shame, as she ruminated what Vitalija had said. She clearly didn’t care a thing about Magdalena, she just wanted to go back to sleep. Filled with rage, Magdalena took a swig of water and stormed back into the living room to respond.

“Stop,” was all she managed to say, before being cut off by another stream of angry tears. Vitalija’s sigh of relief echoed through the receiver.

“Jesus Magdalena, you got yourself into something big this time,” Vitalija jested, a small air of worry in her voice. Its strictness seemed to have melted away, replaced by a more tense tone. Magdalena searched for the words to respond with, but they were lost when a piece of paper caught her eyes. Everything flooded back at once. 

Vitalija paused for a second, continuing when Magdalena didn’t reply. “I don’t even talk to Dániel that often. I got so confused when he called me this late. But when he mentioned that he thought something was wrong with you, I’ll admit I got a bit worried. Then I decided to trust you were okay, but call anyways, because something inside me…” Even with the poor reception, Magdalena could hear Vitalija cracking up. Now was her chance. She could get this guilt off of her consciousness. She could be free once more.

“I’m sorry,” she choked, the words slipping on the tip of her tongue.

The phone made some sort of awkward noise, and Magdalena assumed it was Vitalija sniffing. “It’s alright,” she reassured, “Besides, why was Hungary so upset?” She was swift in changing the subject. Magdalena knew what this most likely meant: Vitalija was just as ready to forgive her as Magdalena was to apologize -- not at all. “He usually would be more rational than to call every contact in his phone so early in the morning, wouldn’t you expect?” A light laugh added to the end of the statement made Magdalena begin to doubt Vitalija’s lighthearted demeanor. 

“Dániel is anything but rational, and he knows that,” Magdalena grumbled, a bitter taste lingering at the edge of her mouth. “He tries to pass me off as some crazy lady, in need of constant help and monitoring, only because I’m more expressive with my rage than he is. He’s also got a lot. Sure, the surface may be clear, but the water beneath is murky.”

Vitalija let out a sigh, which sounded more like a fart through Magdalena’s phone speaker. “Knowing you, this isn’t the first time you had some sort of meltdown. But this is the only time I’ve received a phone call. Something happened that you’re not telling me about.” 

Magdalena rolled her eyes, holding back a bitter retort. The edges of her head slowly became hotter, until a full-blown flash of heat passed over her. This conversation had definitely taken a turn for the worst. “He’s done this many times before. Just not to you,” she protested, a hint of defensiveness seeping into her tone.

“What were you even apologizing for?” Vitalija interrogated, changing the subject at the most dreadful time.

Qualms caused Magdalena’s stomach to perform a full flip. Her hands began to seep sweat as a sense of clamminess made its way down her body. “Picking up the phone,” she retorted, “Goodnight.” 

Magdalena pressed twice on the hang up button, her sweaty finger shaking as it hit the screen. Vitalija barely gasped a “wait” as Magdalena left the call. She had her chance. Her knuckles were stiff, and her palms were perspiring faster than her heart beat. As she shifted her fingers slightly, she felt a piece of paper behind her phone. Magdalena put her phone down on the coffee table, running into the kitchen and dumping the scrap in the trash. It had done her no good.


	5. Late Night Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magdalena isn't the only one having a restless night. She decides to break the ice, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 20 years... This was my main source: http://aero-comlab.stanford.edu/jameson/world_history/A_Short_History_of_Poland_and_Lithuania.pdf

+++

Magdalena tossed and turned in bed. Her bed was one of the few in town made of feathers, and her thick blanket preserved her warmth. Yet her mind managed to find a way to keep her awake. She felt tired; her whole body begged to be relieved. However, her mind was too far into thought to take a break.

On the other side of the bed laid the reason Lena was still awake–her guest, Daina, sharing a room due to the lack of other places to be hosted. Obviously, this wouldn’t be the last time the two would share a bed. In a few days, the two nations would be united by the marriage of Jagiello and Jadwiga. Despite the personal union, Magdalena still felt wary of her soon-to-be companion. For starters, Daina practiced paganism(though this would soon change). Their previous run-ins had been less than pleasant, and Magdalena was more interested in new land and power than having to deal with Daina. Even so, a tiny voice inside her pushed her towards Daina, telling her to seek more. She had changed, grown, matured. And now that Magdalena had her first actual conversation with her soon-to-be partner, she was hooked, she wanted to learn more.   
Magdalena turned over, facing Daina’s sleeping figure. She watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. Suddenly, Daina broke into a fit of coughing, causing her to lurch upward. After a moment, the fit died down. Daina remained upright for a second, then returned to her previous position. She blinked for a second, and Magdalena caught a glimpse of her dark, hazel eyes. The two stared at each other, locked for a moment in each other’s gaze.   
“Ummmmm…” Magdalena whispered, attempting to break the awkward silence.  
“What?” Daina responded, punctuating her sentence with another short fit of coughing.  
“I just--” Magdalena began, yet was abruptly interrupted by another fit of coughing.  
Daina let out a final cough. “Sorry,” she croaked, “I’m not in the best state.”  
“It’s okay,” Magdalena reassured her. “I just thought we should get to know each other. Stop being awkward you know, since…”  
Through the darkness, Magdalena made out a smile forming on Daina’s sharp visage. She chuckled lightly, and was sent into another fit of coughing. Magdalena smiled back, then inevitably began laughing. “Sorry,” Daina murmured once the laughter and coughing died down, “It’s just…” Her voice trailed off, and she pursed her lips for a second. “It’s just, I was feeling the same way,” she confessed.  
“Good!” Magdalena interjected with a cheery grin. The two let out a small giggle, relieved that part of the awkwardness had disintigrated. “So…”  
“Yeah?” Daina urged Magdalena on, readjusting her grip on the blanket.  
“Um, I don’t know where to start,” Magdalena realized, “Like, there’s so much I don’t know about you. I don’t know what to ask.”  
“Well…” proceeded Daina, biting her lip in thought, “Maybe we should talk about the union? Since it’s been bugging me, and I’m sure it’s been bugging you…”  
Magdalena turned red for a moment. Daina’s brutal honesty and bluntness took her by surprise. “Sure,” Magdalena responded, “You go first, then.”  
“Okay,” Daina began, taking a deep breath, “I’ve been a bit anxious. I mean I hate to bring this up, but I’m pagan, and you’re Christian. We’ve clashed before, over Galicia-Volhynia. And, I mean, Jogaila’s grandfather married his daughter to Casimir, but that wasn’t a union like this one. Jadwiga is your king, Jogaila is my grand duke, and once they marry, we both have to be together for almost everything. But I like being my own. I don’t want to have to answer to someone else, or to the Church. It’s not my choice, and I want the power, I want the civil war to end, and I don’t want to worry about the Teutonic knights…”  
Magdalena nodded softly, her gaze drifting towards the ceiling. “The church isn’t that bad… After Boleslaw III’s death, it was the only thing that held me together, that stopped me from splitting into a bunch of smaller factions. And when Ladislas came along, he got a boost from the church that helped him reunify the nation. I’m scared that you won’t support the structure and support that the papacy gives, that since you’re pagan, you’ll only seek to satisfy your own interests, and be a leech. But I need this union too, Jadwiga won’t be taken seriously unless she’s married, as strong of a ruler as she is, she’s young. And I don’t like the Teutonic Knights either, and it will be worth it if Russia becomes a threat too.”  
“It’s kind of ironic,” Daina chuckled, a hint of anger lingering at the back of her voice, “the Church held you together. It held me together too. In fact, if Christianity and the Teutonic Knights didn’t threaten my way of life, I might not have unified into the Duchy. I might not exist. But I can see why it’s important to you, and if it’s for the greater good, then I have no choice.”  
Magdalena’s gaze filtered to Daina. Her eyes twinkled with determination and strength, and Magdalena almost forgot her illness. She spoke as though she were the strongest nation in all of Europe, not one undergoing a civil war. A warmth emerged in her chest, a fiery passion to counter Daina’s.   
“Well,” Magdalena concluded, “I’m sure glad I got that off my chest.”  
Daina gave a hearty chuckle, which turned into a fit of coughing once again. “Sorry,” she sputtered through coughs, “This nasty sickness… Let’s hope this union ends it.”  
Magdalena gave a nod. “Yes, goodnight,” she whispered, retracting into the blanket and closing her eyes once again.   
===


	6. Things  Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dreaded visit leads to a late night talk, and the start of a long process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's been a year but I'm still gay and Lietpol still owns me so if anyone is still interested in this here you go.

   Three crisp knocks sounded from the door. Magdalena lay scrunched up on the couch, too lazy and upset to drag herself upstairs into her actual bed. The knocks came again. Magdalena’s grip strengthened on her blanket as she pulled it over her head. A sharp  _ ding-dong  _ echoed into Magdalena’s ears, bouncing through her head. She knew who it probably was, or who it could be. 

  “Go away!” her muffled voice called from beneath the blanket. The response was another ringing of the bell. “I said go away!”

   The bell was angered and began to ring multiple times. Irritated, Magdalena got off her butt and clambered to the door. Standing on her front porch was none other than Vitalija. She seemed taken aback, but as usual maintained her composure.

   “What do you want…” Magdalena grumbled.

   “To talk,” Vitalija said, her voice tinted with concern.

   Without any other words, Magdalena moved out of the doorway, giving Vitalija room to passed. As Vitalija sat down at the kitchen table, Magdalena began to make coffee. There was a silence, a stillness, aside from the gentle whirring of the coffee machine. It was broken by an angered  _ clank _ as two cups of coffee landed on the table.

“What?” Magdalena grumbled defensively, as she sat down. 

“I just,” Vitalija began, punctuating herself with a sigh, “I just thought that, we haven’t sat down and talked about the way things were. We’ve known each other for so long, we’ve been together, then for 100 years we both lost our status as nations, then when we got it back, we were at war, then we both became part of the Soviet Union, and after so long being apart and growing in my own way, I’m somehow here again, in front of you. What are we? We’re not together anymore, you’re not my responsibility, but I somehow feel responsible for you.” 

Magdalena groaned. “You and Dániel both. I’m my own country, I’m grown, I don’t need you.”

Vitalija pinched the bridge of her nose. “Apparently not grown enough to not have a bad meltdown and deal with yourself without blaming it on Hungary.

A fire rose in Magdalena’s stomach. The back of her neck grew hot. “I told you!  _ He _ ’s the one who’s taking this out of proportion! Not me!” She felt the words shooting out of her mouth like darts.

“You’re not a child, or even a teenager! You’re an adult! Even more, you’re a country who’s been around for at least a thousand years! So for God’s sake grow up! I’m not talking about Hungary, I’m not trying to arrest you! I’m trying to fix this problem! To talk! But no, you think that everyone who wants to have a deep adult conversation with you is trying to interrogate you! You think--”

“SHUT UP!” Magdalena’s eyes were clenched shut, her hands squeezing at her scalp. Vitalija complied, sighing, looking out the window. “Just… please…”

“Lena I’m so--”

“Don’t ‘Lena’ me.”

“I’m sorry. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave.”

A chair was pushed. Footsteps padded across the tiled kitchen floor and into the entryway. The door knob began to slowly creak open. Moments of awkward, tense silence felt like decades, and in those moments Magdalena felt the decades. Centuries. Three hundred years ago, her temper and selfishness caused her demise, and although she tried to stop it, she couldn’t. She couldn’t let it happen again.

“Wait,” Magdalena breathed almost without realizing. It was enough to cause Vitalija to turn around. “I’m sorry, I just have so much on my mind.”

Vitalija’s dark eyes held a small blaze in them, as she stood in the doorway. “Spill.”

Magdalena brushed her hair back, looking remorsefully at the floor as Vitalija returned to her seat. “I was cleaning out my closet, and found…” The eyes accross the table stared at her with concern, edging her to continue. “I found part of the Union of Krewo. It made me think about what we were, how close we were. It made me think about how you made me feel like I could do anything, like I was invincible. I let it get to my head. So did the nobility. The sejm became a mess, with liberum veto nothing got done. I didn’t care,” --the words slipped out like water-- “We were the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. Who would challenge us? But things were changing. I was too caught up in my fantasy of power that I didn’t notice what a lack of power or government was doing to me, to you. We were lucky enough to be surrounded by three of the strongest monarchs of the time. I told myself that I’d be okay, that I’m above this, that I have you, but after the first partition, I realized the end was near. Then came the Prussian military. Then a constitution, a desperate final attempt. I wasn’t powerful. Even when Napoleon came through, or when I went to Italy, or even when I became a nation again, I wasn’t as strong. I told myself that I’d get my strength back, but after another war, I realized I never would, that in this modern world, I’d never hold the power I once had. Then I realized that power isn’t worth it, you have it then it’s gone. People last forever, and I neglected you. I hurt you, I chose my own ideas and fantasies over you, over the truth. I’m sorry for being an idiot.”

The air was quiet, but not as still as it was before. This new silence was less awkward and more relieved, loose, like yarn. Vitalija reached across the table, tears silently streaking down her face. “Don’t be…” 

“Liet…” Magdalena murmured, slowly reaching and grasping Vitalija’s hands. The two sat in mutually silence, aside from the muffled sniffs and sobs. Between the two, there was a mutual feeling of guilt, and anger. Years pile up, and with them the divide only grows. For the first time in decades, however, the divide seemed to come to a halt. All with the word sorry. But sorry isn’t enough to fill the gap, to fill the rift and ease the pain. For now, however, a sorry would have to suffice.


End file.
